Darnell Barnes had worked the High End Condominiums long enough to know the property by sound.
The pool pump hummed continuously.
The elevator in Building C had been down for a week. Residents complained about how loud will it be until the elevator gets fixed?
The sprinklers ticked across the east lawn flower bed at 8:45 every morning like clockwork.
He knew the people too. Mr. and Mrs. Alcorn in 4B, married thirty-one years and still arguing about the thermostat.
The Pruitt twins in 2F, juniors in college, who left their bikes in the middle of the breezeway no matter how many notices he taped to their door.
Miss Odette in 6A, retired from the school board, who tipped him in pound cake.
A couple of newlyweds. A surgeon who never said good morning.
Darnell just about knew every tenant personality.
Wednesday morning he walked the grounds with his clipboard, pen tucked behind his ear.
Pool gate latch. Check.
Breezeway lights, Building A. Check.
Dumpster enclosure. Check.
Fire extinguisher tags, Building B. Check.
He was halfway through the courtyard when the whole checklist went out of his head.
She came around the fountain walking her dog at an easy pace, like they were finishing their morning walk.
She was short, five-two on a good day, with a ponytail swinging behind her and a fitted black tee that was doing exactly what it was designed to do.
Black spandex hugged her from waist to ankle.
Her skin had that warm glow from that morning walk, and a little sweat at her collarbone.
She was breathing slow and steady, earbuds in.
Darnell's pen was already moving.
He looked down and saw that he had put a checked on the paper that wasn't there.
He had drawn it in the margin, right under Fire extinguisher tags, and put a check mark in it.
Her.
"Damn," he said out loud.
"That ain't on the list." He mumbled.
He told himself to look away. He was a professional.
He had manners.
But he had eyes too, and his feet had already started drifting her way.
She didn't glance his way. She just crossed the courtyard with that smile and casual unhurried walk, tapped her fob against the Building D door, and slipped inside.
The glass door swung shut behind her and left him standing there with a clipboard and a pulse that was beating through his ears.
"Wait," he said, to nobody.
By the time he got to the door fumbling with his key fob, the lobby was empty.
The elevator numbers were already climbing, two, three, and four then they stopped.
They could have stopped for anyone. Building D had forty-two units.
Darnell stood in the cool air of the lobby and looked at the mailboxes.
Forty-two little brass doors, forty-two names, and not one of them had a ponytail.
He looked down at the clipboard.
The new box was still there, neatly checked, in his own handwriting.
Somebody's gonna have a leaky faucet or something painted real soon, he thought.
Might need a full inspection too.
He tucked the pen behind his ear, squared his shoulders, and went back outside into the sunlight to finish his rounds.
But the walk had changed. He was looking down every breezeway and every window now.
To be continued…